


Endurance

by MamaMystique



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6252040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaMystique/pseuds/MamaMystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There are some things in this world you will never be rid of my love.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endurance

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted on Tumblr as: 13. Falling Asleep [Cuddling Prompts]
> 
> I tried for angst, ended up with some weird angst/humor/fluff hybrid monstrosity…idk. Let’s go on an adventure with my two favorite nerds. Post-Trespasser DLC by a few years.

“I can’t believe you grew it back.”

The disgusted disbelief in Sakhim’s voice makes Cassandra smile, even as she rolls her eyes. The long fingers of her lover’s hand tangle themselves in her black hair, pulling gently at the short strands until they find the offending braid. Cassandra nuzzles her nose further into the crook of Sakhim’s neck, content to let her have her complaints. “There are some things in this world you will never be rid of my love,” she purrs softly, pulling the sheets up around them tighter.

The elf breathes out a hollow laugh, her chest shuddering under Cassandra’s shoulder. It is, unfortunately, something they have both become accustomed to. “I know. I just can’t believe of all things, it’s your Maker-forsaken  _rat tail_  that is going to outlive me.” Such casual words are like ice water in Cassandra’s stomach, hitting her where she least expects it. Her entire body freezes and she is suddenly cold, her heart plummeting downwards into the gaping, inevitable void.

Sakhim notices almost immediately. “I’m sorry. Humor may not be the most…appropriate coping strategy. But it’s my favorite.”

There is a lump in Cassandra’s throat and she forces herself to ignore it. “Do you remember back in Haven? When I asked you what you wanted to do, how to close the Breach?” Sakhim’s fingers travel from her hair to her neck now, and Cassandra takes the opportunity to push herself up on her elbows, bracing her chin so she can find her lover’s face in the dark. Eyes as green as the fade rifts find hers easily, and the moonlight pouring in from the window softens the weathered texture of the former Inquisitor’s face. Sakhim is smiling like always, the deep dimples of her cheeks soft. “And naturally, you replied with some wise-ass remark.”

“Youngest of four sisters, need I remind you,” Sakhim interjects in her own defense, “between Yael and Daine we had our overdramatic mage bases all covered in the Lavellan clan. Nim and I had to counter-balance that somehow.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Yael you find her overdramatic next time I see her.”

Sakhim immediately quips back. “Please do, I’ve always wondered what you’d look like without eyebrows.”

Cassandra smacks Sakhim’s good shoulder audibly. “I’m trying to be sentimental, you idiot. Now shut up and let me finish.” Sakhim sticks out her tongue for good measure, and Cassandra feels like her heart is about to burst at every seam.  _This shouldn’t be happening, not to her._  “I told you to hang on to your sense of humor. I’m glad that you did. We all needed it. Especially me.”

Silence answers her, and Sakhim’s eyes close.

“Sakhim?” Cassandra’s hands are on her chest, above her heart, feeling for a beat.

Her lover lets out a breath, and envelops the human as tightly as she can with her one arm. “I’m sorry this all built up to the shittiest punch line ever,” she manages quietly. “I’m sorry I…I’m leaving too.”

Cassandra wriggles free of her grasp enough to press her cheek to Sakhim’s. There aren’t any tears there, something they agreed to years ago when Sakhim emerged from her encounter with Solas and told Cassandra the truth. Every moment now was borrowed time, and she insisted they waste none of it crying. “I forgive you.” 

Sakhim’s lips kiss Cassandra’s forehead sleepily. Then, softly, she begins to speak again. “I spoke with Leliana. She will be at the grand cathedral when you return. Promise me you’ll talk to her.” The words hang in the air above them, resolute. Even now they can both feel inevitability creeping in, washing ashore like the waves below. Cassandra doesn’t answer: she doesn’t know if she can make that promise. “Funny,” Sakhim says as she kisses Cassandra’s brow again, “I never thought I’d get to actually arrange my own funeral. I always thought I’d be some nameless body in a field.”

“Regardless of how many gods you’ve challenged and spat on,” Cassandra answers, “I knew you would never end up nameless. And I hardly consider writing a letter to myself and your sisters that only stated ‘if any one of you dares to make some sort of stone memorial to me I will personally rise up from beyond the grave and behead you’ any actual arrangement of any kind.”

“You’re forgetting the part where in the event of my inability to take matters into my own dead hand, I’ve given Yael explicit permission to set fire to anyone who tries.”

Cassandra groans. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sera. She’s rubbing off on you.”

Sakhim laughs, and hums in agreement. “I sent word – actual word – to Yael. She’ll know what to do.”

There is a worried knot in Cassandra’s chest, and clear memories of the violence that had erupted when Yael had been told that her elven sister was in love with a human Seeker. “Do you really trust your sister to organize this?”

A lazy, nonchalant tone hangs on to every word of Sakhim’s response. “No organization required. We may have royally pissed each other off in our lifetime, but she’ll do this for me. Stick my body in the ground, plant a tree, and be done with it. I’m the one who has all the hard work ahead anyways – I personally can’t wait to see how my shared belief in both the Creators and the Maker ends up either royally fucking me over or helping me out in whatever comes next.”

At that Cassandra can’t help but snort out a laugh, tears gathering in her eyes. It takes everything in her not to shed them, biting her lip until it  _hurts_  to stop herself. “You’ve never been afraid, have you?”

Sakhim brushes Cassandra’s shoulder with her fingers. “I used to be. But then,” she whispers as she sits up, pulling Cassandra against her and burying her head between her neck and her shoulder, “I met this beautiful force of nature who could destroy anything in her path, who wanted poetry and candlelight, and who I watched guide me through every horror the world threw at us. And when she told me that she loved me, I stopped being afraid. Death does not scare me because I know it isn’t the end. And whatever there may be, I know it doesn’t stand a chance against you.” 

Cassandra takes Sakhim’s face between her hands and looks at her straight in the eye. “Against  _us_ , my love.”

“No rushing to meet me, you promise?”

“I promise,” Cassandra nods, blinking away her tears. “But consider this your only head start.”

“And no statues.”

Cassandra throws back her head and smiles. “No statues.”

“Seriously though, you humans have this thing about stone. If there is going to be anything at all, the only thing I’ll allow is for Varric to write a final chapter of ‘This Shit Is Weird’ and do a dramatic reading of it for everyone. You have to do Leliana’s voice. And he’s not allowed to change the title either.”

The Seeker narrows her eyes. “I hate that title.”

“And just like your rat tail, some things we don’t like are simply going to endure without us whether we like it or not.”

Cassandra huffs at that, and pushes Sakhim back down so she can reposition herself comfortably back at her side, her arms around her. “Keep going on about it and not only will I have them make a statue of you, I’ll have them give you a rat tail of your own on it.”

“You wouldn’t!” Sakhim exclaims in convincing horror, her eyes alight and her lips parted in a gasp. “You smut-reading monster you.”

Cassandra flushes in embarrassment, and playfully smacks Sakhim’s shoulder again. “I’m going to remember that.”

With that threat, Sakhim finally settles. “I hope you do,” she says, serious. “Because this is exactly what I want you to remember.”

Cassandra kisses Sakhim’s neck in silent acceptance, before drifting off to sleep.

She never forgets.


End file.
